The Lyall Lupin Chronicles
by ridiculousmoon
Summary: Lyall Lupin- father of Remus Lupin- faces his struggles against the law and even his only family when he decides to toss his life aside and become a mad scientist who lives out of his basement with his house elf, Cle . A must read, I think. Please review! (Maturity for later chapters?)
1. Visitation

**A/N: I do not own Lyall Lupin or any other of the canonical Harry Potter characters that I use in this fic. There will be chapters, and please review, because I'm trying something new and want to make sure ya'll like it. I love bringing canon underrated or no-show characters into light with writing fanfiction, but with this character in particular. I have done roleplays with this character in it and developed him thoroughly. All canon characters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. The originals however, which their may be a few of, all belong to me.**

Most people believed that the world re-owned Ministry of Magic worker, Lyall Lupin, had died somewhere along the line after his retirement. His own son even believed such information- and this was probably the part that hurt the most for Lyall. After he had retired at the Ministry, he had slipped into a dark, secret 'career' in which he was hiding out in his basement, brewing up illegal potions and oogling in blood magic books for ancient curses, with nothing but the company of his house elf companion, Clé.

That was enough for him, of course. Keeping himself enlisted in files as _deceased_ helped things move along slowly for him, without having to worry about the Ministry keeping a close eye on him and his illegal potions ingredients and magical artifacts. Lyall played the role of a mad scientist, if you will, a very poor one in fact- not like the rich, crazed money-makers you see in movies- who frequently would summon food and beverages from the neighboring homes, sly as ever, using the obliviation spell to wipe their slates clean after he had a nice meal.

Clé," He began thoughtfully as he wiped up dragons blood off from the table using an old rag that used to have belonged to the house elf. Not because he treated her as a slave- but, because he had only most recently learned how to sew and knit, taking some time out of his lone days to spruce her up a small, girly wardrobe. "What are you doing?" His eyes gazed at her in wonder over the rim of his thin spectacles. There she stood over by one of the shelves of vials of potion, fiddling around with one in particular. He furrowed his brow. She knew that was against the rules, but she still did it. Lyall could never bring himself to yell at her, though.

"I was just thinking.." Her old voice croaked, although her unique milky brown eyes displayed nothing but youth and a certain curiosity that honestly- _even though he would never go as low as to swear-_ scared the shit out of Lyall. ".. Somebody stopped by the other day."

In all the double-digited years he had spent down here in the cellar, completely unbothered, this would be enough to trigger his swearing. _But not today._ "Wh- WHAT? When?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm sorry, Lyall." She dipped down, doing a little bow. "But- um- it was a man that said he wanted to see you." Her eyes sparkled slightly. "I think I recognized him, he looked a lot like you when you were younger-"

" _Remus?"_ Lyall felt a lump in this throat, even at the sound of his own voice uttering the name. Remus Lupin, a werewolf and his son, the son he hadn't stuck around to take care of. You see, there was a very long, unusual story as to why Remus had never discovered Lyall's identity, existence, or the fact that he was his father in general.

It all started just before Remus' fifth Birthday. All was well at home, but not so much at the Ministry. The whole department went ballistic when Lyall nearly threw himself at a poor 'muggle tramp, Fenrir Greyback, who claimed to be none more than an innocent muggle scooped up by a whole bunch of threatening men with wands. Noticing the signs of the werewolf, Lyall had a counterargument up and ready to roll, but when it came out, _it apparently didn't seem as nice and understanding as it may have seemed in his mind beforehand._

Instead, he referred to the creatures as ' _souless, evil and deserving nothing but death',_ which was a phrase that he had no idea he would find himself regretting and playing over and over in his head, even to this day. _He was the reason Remus had to suffer every full moon. No father should do that to their son._ And Lyall didn't want to stick around for it. About to haul up and leave, a desperate, heartbroken Hope Lupin begged him to stay with their son on this last full moon. And when she said last, he hadn't figured that she had literally meant it.

So, that night, they locked him up, an exhausted Lyall having to place an even higher amount of enchantments on the room than usual. The howling and thrashing was nothing but normal business to them- just as long as nobody outside of their house heard it. When the howling and thrashing stopped, however, that was when it started to worry them. Lyall had been laying down, trying to clear his mind and enjoy a novel. He paid no mind when his wife slipped out of bed- as damned curious as she was- and snuck downstairs to see what was going on with Remus.

Once Lyall had realized that Hope hadn't gone down just to ' _get a glass of water'_ as she had claimed, he found himself horrorstruck, a crazy scene before him. The door to Remus' transformation room was wide open- but there was no wolf in sight. He turned around just in time for a gigantic, slobbering creature swinging its paw at his head.

" ** _Jesus_** -" He ducked, and good thing he had. Lyall's heart pounded in his ears, his chest heaving as he crawled across the floor, trying to reach safety. It was then when a horrifying realization hit him- _Hope must have opened the door. Where was Hope?_

He heard the monster's teeth knash against something, a eardrum shattering scream emitting from just behind him. Lyall shook, propping himself up on all fours, preparing to get slashed to death. He couldn't look. _Remus couldn't have.._

A sudden gust of wind at his feet brought Lyall back into reality. He threw himself into the enchanted room, locking the doors, holding them shut, and muttering all of the possible protective charms he knew. _Hope._ _ **HOPE.**_ She was the only thing he would think about. No matter how much he wanted to go out there and save her- if it was even still possible yet- even a fool wouldn't have gone back out. Lyall loved Hope, but he knew better. And he also knew that by the sounds of that attack, he had most likely already lost her. His eyes snapped shut as he leaned against the door, falling into a sitting position and breaking down.

 _No one else knew about this. It all came back to Lyall in an instant- hours on end full of sobs, silent scream, and prayers to a God he didn't he believe in that both Hope and his son would be okay. Part of him hesitated though, and this made him feel like even worse of a father- If a son killed his mother, was he even deserving of his love anymore? No, no. Lyall, of course he is- he doesn't understand. He can't help it._

But even these explanations made Lyall more and more furious with his son and most of all, himself. He left shortly after that- left and never turned back, leaving Remus with close friends of his- adoptive parents who would pose as Hope and Lyall Lupin. So, most technically, Lyall had to retire at that point. At least from anything serious. Under the Ministry's radar he no longer existed, and he felt it was better that way. So what was Remus doing knocking at the door of his old childhood house he shouldn't have remembered? _Did he remember something-?_ Lyall's breath caught. "Cle, what did he say?" He asked, voice thick with sadness and long lost memories.

"Not very much," Cle crossed her boney arms over her chest. "When he saw me he looked all cringey and said 'I'll be back later, then'. What a critic- just because I'm a house elf, I must not know anything?" She pulled a small dagger- fit simply for her, with ancient engravings littering it's shaft- from a small leather strip- a 'belt'- that Lyall had designed especially for her upon request. She pierced it through the air, making her point. "I'll show him my intelligence."

"Stop, stop.." muttered Lyall thoughtfully, not paying much mind to his elf now. "No need to be so feisty." He pushed his glasses neatly back up onto the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean by later? When did he come by, again?"

"Oh, about twenty minutes ago-" replied Cle, seeming very unconcerned.

"What?! Twenty minutes ago?! I-" He stampered. "Where was I-?"

"Mm, bitching about some potion to yourself about how useless it was, as you made it." She squeaked, shrugging. "I didn't want to interrupt you- you were in your happy place."

" _Next time_ my long lost son is at my door step, please, let me know." He hissed from his clenched jaw, trying his best to keep his cool. His hazel eyes looked at Cle expectantly.

"Why are you looking at _me_ like that? Do you want to write to him or somethin'?"

"Yes, that would be nice.." Lyall gestured for a pen and parchment, which he got handed immediately. _What do you even write to your son that you abandoned with two crappy fake foster parents when he comes looking for you? 'Hey I'm your dad, sorry I left you, you killed your mother you sick bastard'? No._ He tapped his pen against the piece of aged parchment, thinking. _That wouldn't do._

Another knock at his front door- all the way upstairs- tore him out of his thoughts. Just as Cle was about to hobble up the winding wooden staircase and answer it, Lyall swooped in, standing in front of her with his hand held out. "Seriously?" He questioned, crooking an eyebrow. He couldn't help but to suppress a chuckle that threatened to bubble up in his throat.

"I'll.. get the door." He pointed at her. "You- stay here, will you?" He had returned to his usual kind, cheerful self. Exceptionally cheerful for being mostly alone all the time. "I need some help finishing cleaning up that dragons blood from one of the work stations, and maybe we should leave the trap door upstairs open, we sure could use some airing out of this place- you know, before we kill ourselves." said Lyall, the casualness of this otherwise alarming statement almost painful to hear.

"Alrighty, Lyall." She sighed, waving her hand in the air at him in dismissal. "I'll have it done."


	2. Proposals From a Stary-Eyed Man

_What was he going to do? Answer the door?_ Lyall didn't feel rather up to it. Actually, he hadn't recalled answering the door to anybody who wasn't Cle coming back from one of her benders- and by _benders_ I don't mean alcohol, I mean thieving. Cle had always had a certain knack, ever since Lyall got her when he was very young, in taking what didn't belong to her. Nowadays, it was proving itself to be quite useful.

That, and he felt much more secure letting her out now that he knew she had that little dagger for protection. _God forbid something happen to her._ Oh, speaking of which- she also had a 'knack' for stabbing people in the ankles. _He had to keep an eye on that one,_ he thought to himself, snorting, before his hand met the cold doorknob. It occured to him that the longer Remus stood there knocking, oblivious of the fact that his biological father stood on the other side of the door, the more likely it would be if Remus left and never, ever came back again. It wouldn't be any different either way, as far as Lyall was concerned.

Regardless of what it would be, Lyall sucked it up and twisted the door handle open.

To his surprise, Remus wasn't standing at the door, all mismatched eyes and red-ish brown hair that he remembered. Instead there was Albus Dumbledore- all fuzzy white beard and half-moon spectacles- smiling knowingly at the disheveled Lyall Lupin who stood in the beaten down doorway. He was _beyond_ confused. "Lyall," Dumbledore hummed. "Such a nice thing, to see you."

Lyall's jaw might as well have been on the ground at this rate.

Two good questions. _Why was the great, the powerful Albus Dumbledore on his doorstep? Annd.. why was the great, the powerful Albus Dumbledore acting so calm about speaking to someone that was supposed to be... dead?_ Lyall shuddered. "Albus Dumbledore," He brushed his hands over his clothing that clearly needed ironing, fixing his greying hair self consciously. "What are you doing here?"

"It's okay, Lyall." His voice lowered. "I have grey hairs, too." Dumbledore's cheeks lit up a rosey red, chuckling. "But I do come here on a serious matter.." He sighed, pushing past him and into the old Lupin household. ".. I assumed you would be here."

"You- _assumed? How-?"_

"I'm just that good." Dumbledore smiled, that damned twinkle in his eyes. _You know the look._ "But down to business, Mr. Lupin." He folded his arms in an accusatory way over his chest. "We sent Remus down earlier. He said an.. elf, answered the door? I didn't know you had company. Though, I imagined as much- If I were you, I would at least want somebody.." _Since when did Albus fucking Dumbledore act considered for his well-being? Since when did Dumbledore even talk to him!? This was huge for Lyall._ ".. you know, with me."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"You used to work at the Ministry. You were quite popular, am I correct?"

"I was." Lyall tensed. He didn't like to talk about his days at the Ministry, as glorious as _(most)_ of them were.

"Mmm, and so I've heard." Dumbledore glanced over Lyall's distraught features, analyzing him- not judgmentally, but with consideration. "That's why I come with a proposition for you." He pursed his lips. "How would you like to get back out there, Mr. Lupin?"

Lyall was _thrilled._ A smile quivered over his chapped lips, threatening to form. Those lips then curled into a frown. _He was 'dead'. He couldn't go._ "I would be honored, but I don't think quite understand my predicament, sir."

"No, I think I understand it just fine, _sir._ " He mocked, causing Lyall to look more than a bit taken aback by his bluntness in the matter. "There is no need to speak to me like I am of high authority to you. From what I understand, you're a genius. I am no better than you, than you are no better than me. We're equals. I've heard some great things about you from the Ministry, Lyall, and I think it is time to jump back into the game." His gaze tore from Lyall's, drifting off into the distance. The room temperature seemed to have dropped down multiple degrees. "Now is better than ever. These are dark times. So dark, that I don't think even the most knowledgeable of us know just how dark they are.. yet. And this is why I ask you to assist me in this mission."

"What mission? _What are you talking about?_ " He strategically avoided any remarks on the whole 'dark times' thing. The headlines of The Prophet sent chills up his spine enough of the time, there was no need for him to speak about it.

"I understand that you are infatuated with magical beings and the dark arts, am I correct?"

"You are. But, why? Has there been some sort of breakthrough I haven't been updated on, or something?"

"No, no." Dumbledore chortled at his ignorance. "No breakthrough. But, there might be if we don't do something about it soon. There has been some rather strange behavior going on in the wizarding world as of late, and I'm not sure what the cause is- but what I do know, is it's something of our kind. Something _supernatural. Paranormal._ "

 _This-_ now, this snagged Lyall's attention and took off running with it. "Paranormal, you say?" inquired Lyall, clearing his throat in an attempt to shield the utter excitement that burst within him in this moment. _Well, of course he would have to take the mission now._

"And we think we know who's behind it all.." Dumbledore began, making Lyall freeze in his tracks.

" _Who_ is behind it? Don't you mean more of a _what_ is behind it?" said Lyall quizzically.

"It's definitely a who," responded Dumbledore blankly, making Lyall feel a feeling he did not have to worry about to awfully often- _stupidity._ "But, that's the question. Who, indeed? Our Number One suspect surprisingly isn't the Dark Lord, no matter what Potter says. We think it's somebody different- not nearly as strong, but.." His thin fingers curled around his chin as he leaned against the table that he now sat at, thinking. The cobwebs crawling up his arms from the lack of cleanliness did not bother him. He was too deep in thought for anything short of an explosion to bother him now.

"A soul-sold wizard, Tobias Snape. He's been on and off the Minsitry of Magic's radar- and we clearly know, since he's not a wizard by birth, that he has some connection with the supernatural. That's enough to run off from for now, I think. Don't you?"

Lyall's mouth felt oddly dry. He tripped over his own words, unable to form a single syllable without stuttering. _Soul sold wizards,_ he mentally noted. _Possibly the most dangerous kind, given that they gain their 'powers' through pacts with demons, and eventually giving up their very sense of self to them._ He didn't quite recognize the name, though. _Tobias Snape, Severus Snape's father._ Lyall's stomach lurched at the thought, feeling like he should be able to put a face to it.

"He's been changing his name on and off for years _. Tobias Snape._ One he had been using and throwing out for years. I have no idea how he does it, but he seems to keep himself pretty well hidden." Dumbledore's eyebrows raised, and he almost seemed impressed. _Him? Impressed with a cold-blooded, soul-sold so-called-wizard? Something wasn't right here._

As he always did, Lyall decided to brush it off. "And how do you want me to help?" Lyall asked the obvious question, one that should have been asked ages ago.

"Haven't I made myself clear-?" An oddly impatient Dumbledore shot.

"I-" He nodded frantically, at a loss for words. "You want me to hunt down this guy and make sure he isn't like rising the Underworld with his weird demon connections, er, or something or other?" Lyall raised his eyebrows. A small smirk formed, the knowingness spreading across his aged features. _Wait until Cle hears about this..._

The older, dare I say wiser man, coughed, giving the illusion he was about to deliver some unfavorable news. "You have to do this alone. Though, I trust that won't be very difficult- you're willing to leave your elf behind, aren't you?"

 _That's it. He was asking to much of him now._ Lyall stood up, expression hardened. "No," His jaw clenched and unclenched in a moment of rage. "I am not willing to do that. It's either Cle and I, or no one at all. It's a package deal."

 _At that instant, he began to recall exactly when he had gotten Cle- when he was alone and had nobody else. She hadn't lived the easiest life, either. They were both neglected. Abused. Walked on. And, finding what they thought would only be a temporary confinement in each others company, they had became a team._

 _Lyall didn't have the best memory. But, he could remember that day as if it was yesterday._

 _It was those days when he was rebelling the hardest, and it was funny, considering he was barely a teenager yet. Sure, he still kept his geeky ways intact during this time- but he let a whole new side of him loose. Drinking. Disrespecting those who thought the world of him. And he kicked himself for it everyday afterwards._

 _She was there for him, and he was there for her- he couldn't lose that. Even if it meant just leaving her alone for a while, it was no secret she was getting older, no secret that one day he would run out of that high effect potion he would use to keep her alive, that one day would be marked as illegal, one day he would run out..._

 _It really was a horrifying idea. But it was a possibility._

"You're a genius. A re-owned one, so well known among the entire wizarding world-" Dumbledore's brows furrowed. "Why do you need an elf to accompany you on your mission? Does she complete your intelligence, or something? Is _some elf with a strange French name_ the mastermind behind Lyall Lupin? Hmph. I don't think so."

"Watch yourself-!" He hissed through gritted teeth. "I'll accept your offer, but as long as she comes with me. No man, woman- or, um, elf- left behind. That's my motto." And with that, Lyall twisted the door handle open with ease, gesturing for the man to exit.

His eyes twinkled. "Oooh, I have been watching myself. What about you?" The absurdity of those words echoed around in Lyall's head- _the deep meaning._ But, again, he brushed it off.

Cle came out from behind one of the table legs, where she had been hidden. Her expression was unreadable- but one thing was certain. She was one unhappy camper. "Why in the _bloody hell_ didn't you accept his offer?!" She cried.

Lyall didn't see why she was so panicked about it. "I didn't want to."

"Do you even _remember_ what happened last time someone spilled news like this-?"

 _Oh, yeah- he remembered. How could he have possibly forgotten? That, was not something he wanted to relive. He had never seen more vampires in one forest in his life before that point._ "Right," Lyall forced a smile, which had a _'kill me now'_ vibe to top it off. "Yeaaah.. you've got a valid point. We don't want another one of those type.. things.. to, uh, happen." He glanced downwards, catching a glimpse of Cle's harsh glare. _WHAT DID HE DO?!_


End file.
